Holden Caulfield In Ten Years
by theredpoofballhat
Summary: The only reason I wrote Catcher in the Rye was for myself. I want to make that very goddam clear.  From Holden's POV, what will his life be like in 10 years? R&R Please! Rated T for language. This was an english assignment! DIS: do not own Holden


Catcher in the Rye- In Ten Years…

_Holden Caulfield is an accomplished author of his short autobiography, Catcher in the Rye. This is his 10__th__ year anniversary of his book, and here is his 10__th__ year anniversary Authors Note._

The only reason I wrote Catcher in the Rye was for myself, and for my psychoanalyst, if you want to know the truth. I want to make that really goddamn clear. Otherwise I'd look like such a goddamn phony, just like that old Ernie back in the city. Just wanted to make that very clear.

I swear to god, I didn't think that this book would get so famous! I only published it because old DB and Phoebe would have hit the roof if I didn't, because I'm a _good_ writer and a _good_ narrator and I just _have_ to continue the writing tradition in the family- DB, me, and even Phoebe writes for her school paper. I guess it makes sense though, that I continue the family tradition, I mean. English was my best subject in all those phony prep schools, anyway.

I would have never thought that my life might actually turn out okay in 10 years. After that faithful weekend in the city, I ended up giving old Jane a buzz, not like I wouldn't have given her a buzz before, but she was finally available. Turns out she was pretty much the same, which made me really relieved for some odd reason. We spent quite a lot of time together after that, like going to the park and watching the pond unfreeze, and going to those phony pictures that actually turned out okay- if they had a good plot. By the time I proposed to her years later, we were sort of best friends.

Also, I went to a new school, after Pencey, whatchamacallit? I think I just forgot- Westchester School, Northchester School- something Chester School. Boy, it was a pretty unimportant school- I stuck there only a month before I got kicked out…It was really then that I decided to give old Antolini's advice a try, the one about being mature and immature and all. I guess you can call this advice my "philosophy" or whatever. It actually worked, and I was shipped of to this _other_ goddamn prep school, called Highland School, for 8 months. It was an all boys' school, a really phony school if you want to know the truth. But none of the phoniness bugged me anymore because Jane's school was so nearby that I got to have school dances with her and her school and stuff. We went to the prom together.

The funny thing is actually that my grades from grades nine to eleven were so awful that I had to go to a goddamn low class cheap community college before real college. It was all right I guess. I earned my grades and finally I got into a well-deserved, state university. The funny thing though, was that old Stradlater got into the same goddamn school! Boy, did I feel funny as hell when he saw me with Jane. HE must ov' been mad as hell! Anyway, Stradlater was in my class, but Jane and I had an apartment so, thank god, I didn't have to room with that secret slob phony again. God, how I hate him! He pisses me off.

I heard from a couple friends, like Ackley that old Stradlater is a star football player now, like in the NFL. I swear to god, I would kill myself if I were in the NFL. All these jocks are such phonies… Oh, did I mention I met up with old Ackley again? Yeah, we are sort of friends now, somewhat. Even though he is still disgusting, I have learned to accept his ways.

Where was I, college right? Oh, I went to Berkeley College, in the freaking city, majoring in journalism of course…if I may say so myself, I'm an awfully terrific journalist. Then after graduation, I worked in the New York Journal, and then I worked my way up to becoming a movie critic… I honestly don't know how I got there, but I really did. I really hate movies, I really do- unless they have a decent plot. But most of them don't, so being a critic is fun as hell because you can make fun of movies and not have anyone second-guess your opinion. People listen to you when you are a critic.

At age 25 I was a critic. To tell you the truth, I still hadn't lost my virginity by then, but after Jane but after I got married like I was telling you about, we had one kid- his name is Allie- After my brother Allie, of course. Oh, did I tell you? I almost forgot- old Jane suggested to me one time that I go to a therapist for my constant talking to Allie The Ghost. After the therapy, I realized that he was not coming back. I still miss him a whole lot though, and every birthday that he has, I go see his gravestone down in the cemetery in the city. I bring old Allie letters. It's a sad thing that I was not able to catch Allie from falling. I don't know why, but it depresses me. It _really _depresses me. So now, I try my hardest to catch other kids from falling by participating in fundraising for cancer research. I also volunteer at an orphanage sometimes. I know it sounds phony because people who do that want attention and praise for them being good and whatever, but I do it for Allie.

I don't want to talk about that, I don't care if you want to hear it. It depresses me. And it's not like I can take a smoke and wish it away, because apparently smoking can cause cancer. Let me tell you- how much of a hypocritical phony would I be if I smoke and helped kids with cancer? So I quit last year. Now I just drink or chew a goddamn piece a gum instead.

Anyway, another thing that happened last year was me, Allie The Baby and old Jane moved out the peaceful quiet town called St. Johnsbury, in Vermont. It's a hell of a lot better than that shithole you call New York City. I mean, I still like New York City, though, I guess. And it really is a nice town. St. Johnsbury, I mean. Out in our backyard, which is HUDGE by the way, we have a little tiny pond where some duck are for the spring and summertime. Sometimes I like to watch them with little Allie for hours. Oh and also, down the block, there is this old museum. I've never actually been inside because I really just haven't had the time…but this weekend Jane wants to see this new exhibit so hey, I might go with her.

On the other hand, I don't like to travel a lot, unless it is to New York City to visit my parents and DB and Phoebe. Traveling is pretty phony.

Anyway, about the freaking book- I wrote this book ten years ago, when I was only a kid, then I published it. It did not get any fame until years later, when D.B put it on a suggested readings page in his bestseller children's book, The Goddamn Secret Goldfish. Boy, I would have _not _put this on a children's book list. This book isn't really for children at all. But he did anyway. And for that, D.B, thanks. Hey, I wouldn't be writing this if you didn't do that.

I would also like to thank Phoebe, for forcing me to finish writing this goddamn book. And Jane too, well just because. Well, I guess I'm done with those goddamn phony "author's thank you" now, am I? Most people actually don't mean it when they say Thank You, but I actually do right now. I really, truly, mean thank you to Phoebe, DB and Jane. Oh, and my brother, Allie. Swear to god…I swear to god I mean it.

Finally, we can begin the freaking story… Now, if you _really_ want to hear about it…


End file.
